


and the night is closing in

by Laurentia



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 17:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10223594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurentia/pseuds/Laurentia
Summary: The revolution has happened and the aristocracy have scattered. Vera Bates sits alone and waits for nothing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: From an idea borrowed ages ago in which the revolution happens.

The rapping on the door was insistent and hurried but unlike the usual sounds that came from the street these days, there were no accompanying shouts of terror or desperation and it was this lack that made Vera look up from her cards.

She ignored it for a moment – she'd just started another game after all – and returned her attention to the table. She shuffled the reduced pack in her hand and dealt out three cards. The one on top was a Queen and she perused the rows, seeing if it could fit on anywhere. It couldn't. It was useless and she snorted with amusement as she reached for the cigarette languishing in the ashtray. A useless Queen. A sign on the times indeed.

The knock began again and she strained her ears, listening for anything that might tell her who it was but the streets were oddly silent tonight. Which was odd in itself these days; even before London had seldom been quiet but there was a stillness about tonight that made her skin crawl, even with the window wide open to try and get some air in the bloody place. She glanced at the fireplace and wondered what the fuck they were supposed to do when the winter came and it would have to be lit again.

Christ, this was more trouble that it was worth! Not that it was strictly speaking _worth_ anything to her but she had barely done anything in her life without calculating the risk and result and the risk here was gargantuan. If she was caught then they'd both probably end up being stood against a wall and shot and she refused to bloody die for…well she'd already sort of decided to die for her hadn't she?

Fuck it.

She turned over the next three cards and knew someone up there was taking the piss. The black Queen had been useless enough and now sat atop her was a red Queen. She snorted and the knocking started for a third time.

"Jesus Christ!"

She pushed herself out of her seat and stubbed her cigarette out violently in the ashtray, flicking her eyes towards the bookcase that was just out of place and creeping towards it. She couldn't hear anything untowards so she pushed it further against the wall as quietly as she could manage and looked out the window cautiously. Whoever it was, at least they didn't have a policecar with them so that boded well. Then again, she thought with a sinking stomach, most people took justice into their own hands these days.

She left the bedroom and pulled her dressing gown around herself. Without anyone to see her she'd let it fall open but she should at least maintain the image of respectability; it was bad enough she was a divorced woman living alone in a house that had once belonged to her mother-in-law, the last thing she needed was for them to find her in a state of undress. There'd be accusations of being immoral and then it was only a short leap to being accused of illegality. She was hanging onto this house under the new laws by the very skin of her teeth and any day now she might get forced out or worse still, have some homeless bastards forced _in_ here.

Behind the frosted glass at the bottom of the stairs she could see two figures and couldn't decide whether that was good or bad. Once she was level with them she made a guess that they were women, or at least one of them was, based on their height; the one on the left was taller than her but that didn't mean anything. A man and a woman might be a better prospect but she hesitated in the hallway, keeping to the shadows. The house was dark. Even in the summer months the whole bloody world was dark these days and she barely lived on the bottom floors these days for fear of being seen. There was one woman know to live in this house and one woman and one woman alone was all anyone would ever see leave or return. She had to ration the food – not that the new _government_ wasn't already doing that for her – and they'd both lost weight but she couldn't be too careful and buying too much would be suspicious.

She rolled her eyes at her own nerves, checking herself in the mirror but already knowing there was nothing to find. Any telling finery that she might have had was long gone, either sold overbroad through the black market or requisitioned by the new societies. She braced herself and gritted her teeth, reaching a traitorously trembling hand towards the doorknob and nearly jumped out of her skin when there was a particularly loud resurge in the banging. She overcame her fear rather quickly then when irritation set back in and she wrenched open the door.

"What?"

Suffice to say she had _not_ expected to find Sarah O'Brien standing on the other with four carpet bags somehow clutched about her person, half a cigarette smouldering unattended between her lips and accompanied by a woman she had never seen before but she could deduce the identity of in a moment.

"You're not welcome 'ere."

Before she could slam the door in their faces Sarah had her foot in the door and no amount of pushing was shifting it and with an exclamation of deep irritation pulled it back open.

"I told you-"

Sarah cut her off with a glance and pushed herself further into the doorframe and for the first time Vera could see the dark circles under her eyes and the protrusion of her cheekbones. Sarah had never exactly been a skinny sod and seeing her nearly crumpled Vera's resolve but she remained firm and looked up and down the street quickly to make sure there was nobody about.

"Look, if it was just you."

"If she's what you're worried about then don't bother. They know she's with me an' they've not got a bounty out on 'er or anythin'."

Vera frowned. Sarah must be making this up because she'd never heard of any aristocrat escaping without either getting a bullet at the least, or a trial and the end of a rope at the most. She'd heard that Susan Flintshire, her erstwhile employer, had lost her husband to the new courts of "law" and she didn't like to think where her ladyship was these days, but somehow here was the Countess of Grantham, looking reasonably unscathed.

She cast her eyes onto the taller woman and reassessed her initial thought. Cora Crawley was alive, but that was about the best thing to be said for her. Her eyes were still bright but there were bruises adorning her left cheek and right eye that were so visible Vera could only assume were relatively recent. They marred the perfect, porcelain skin and the poor woman looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her hair could do with a wash and the clothes she was wearing were a touch too small for her and Vera thought they were undoubtedly Sarah's going by their shabbiness. Her hands had a few scrapes around the knuckles that suggested she'd at least tried to fight back and Vera liked her a great deal more for that.

It was not enough to lessen her resolve though.

"So they just decided to let this one go?"

"Yeah they did," Sarah spat the cigarette onto the ground before it burnt her lips and looked wearier than Vera thought she'd ever seen anyone, even John at the lowest point of their marriage.

"Oh, and why would they do that? Sympathy for our American cousins?"

Sarah smiled wryly.

"Funnily enough, that was what did it. She-"

"Can speak for herself. No matter what our new rulers might say."

The voice was softer than Vera had expected but then she had never actually heard Cora Crawley speak, never seen her till this minute. Weren't all Americans supposed to be loud and brash instead of this honeyed quietness? She'd heard a great deal about the woman that was stood in front of her and the mother of the Lady Mary who had fucked a Turk to death was far from what she had expected.

"Go on then."

Cora looked at Sarah and Vera got the feeling that the Countess' ongoing survival owed a great deal to her relationship with her maid. But that was ridiculous in itself wasn't it? Vera knew she wasn't the only person, who despite having nothing for most her life, thought that this revolution was going a bit far but wasn't the whole point of it that people like Sarah wouldn't have to bend over backwards for people like Cora? Nevertheless Cora seemed to draw strength from her maid and turned back to Vera with renewed confidence in her eyes.

"I'm an American citizen and they recognise the US as a democratic ally, so I don't get the same treatment. But they wanted to send me home…and it wasn't exactly in the best of conditions so Sarah had to intervene."

Vera nodded idly at the story, not quite sure what that might mean for her. She'd been living here under the new regime and had heard the odd word said about her heritage but the Irish were supposed to be their spiritual allies so she'd been mostly left alone but perhaps it would come to that soon enough and she too would be shoved into captivity along with her countrymen? It wasn't yet an _English_ revolution, it was still a workers one, but that was not to say that things wouldn't change in the future.

Perhaps it would be useful to have Sarah on side after all.

"And what? You both want to stay 'ere?"

Sarah was moment away from answering when there was a bang in the distance that was far too prolonged to be a gunshot and they all jumped. Vera could smell the thickness of the air: smoke and gunpowder and she get the usual chill go down her spine; whatever it was it was far enough away that it certainly wouldn't be anywhere near this neighbourhood but the cries in the distance and the images her imagination conjured up of former grandeur in ruins was enough.

Vera knew that Sarah would have continued to push at her door but oddly it was not her old friend's insistence but rather the look of sheer unadulterated terror that graced Cora's face that swayed her decision and despite herself she unblocked the door.

"Get inside."

The two women were in her hallway before the words had left her lips and Sarah was gratefully dropping the carpet bags one by one on the floor, nudging them together neatly with an instinct that Vera supposed must have been ground into her by now. Cora placed down the two bags she was carrying with much less precision but with twice the gratitude and reached for Vera's hand almost immediately and smiled.

"Thank you."

Were it not for Sarah's sharp eyes still boring into her Vera wasn't sure whether she would have pulled her hand away or said something she would later regret but as it was she kept her thoughts to herself. It was appropriate to thank her she supposed but even with her world crumbling Cora Crawley's hands were still softer than hers had ever been and Vera tried to imagine under what improbably situation the Countess might have actually deigned to touch someone like her before. But then again, they weren't all bad were they and she'd heard enough about Cora to suppose she was one of the better ones.

"You're alright. It's just until the dust settles outside," she narrowed her eyes in Sarah's direction. "Don't get too comfortable."

She felt Cora's hand squeeze hers, still with a soft smile on her face and squeezed back before she could stop herself, offering more comfort to the woman she had intended to. Christ, wasn't she already doing her bit?

"You can come upstairs if you like. I'm missing a few light bulbs down here and its getting dark."

She dropped Cora's hand, not unkindly, and stood uncomfortably while Sarah took off the same coat she had been wearing the last time Vera had seen her – the only thing that was bloody different was the scuff on the hem – and Cora awkwardly wriggled herself out of the tattered remains of what looked like it had once been a fine fur. Once Sarah had hung up her coat she turned to her former mistress expectantly, only to find the woman already reaching to hang up her own coat and Vera had to at least give Cora her dues for trying not to carry on as she had before.

That wasn't the point was it? Living as they had before wasn't ideal but now women like Cora had to rely entirely upon the people that they hadn't pissed off in the past for their goodwill and protection. There were bounties everywhere and on everyone who had even the claim of a title and there were only so many places to hide from the rampaging young government that thought the last hundred years of people being in legitimate service was tantamount to slavery: they didn't seem to grasp the _love_ that had sprung up in that time. The divide between servant and master might have been vast, and Vera had seen it enough times in her life to be able to say that with surety, but there had been a world created that only they had understood. Anyone who fell between the ranks of the two groups simply couldn't understand how people could be bound from so far and Vera hated that she did understand it now. She'd spent a lifetime avoiding getting in too deep – trust her to come across it just before a fucking revolution.

She held her dressing gown tighter around her as she ascended the stairs, not bothering to check they were behind her – the creaks would tell her – but making damned sure she was at the top of the stairs and able to glance into the bedroom she had all but turned into a sitting room before her guests were able to see. Perhaps it wouldn't be too terrible given who they were but one never knew and she wouldn't put her life on the line for anything less than certainty these days.

The room was still empty and she couldn't hear the usual footsteps so she could only assume the banging hadn't carried all the way upstairs. She looked back and saw Sarah leading the way, one hand on the railing and a look of utter weariness on her face, but the other hand was behind her and Vera would have bet her life that it was holding Cora's.

"You'll have to keep it down. I've got neighbours who already aren't my biggest fans."

She'd had complaints before because of the noise: not that she was particularly loud but her neighbours were starting to think she was talking to herself and Vera was fairly sure that it was only going to be a matter of time before they tried to have her committed. Well, let them try. She'd just let a fucking _Countess_ and Sarah O'Brien into her house and that was before one considered her most questionable lapse in sanity to date. Maybe she _was_ mad?

"And excuse the mess. I don't get much company."

She made a show of kicking clothes and books under the cold bed, hiding the evidence, that she could suddenly see so clearly she couldn't believe she'd been stupid enough to leave lying around, that more than one woman lived in this house. It was an error that could cost her dearly one of these days but so far she had been lucky and the house hadn't actually been searched. Christ only knew what she was going to do if they were raided – hope the bloody bookcase didn't wobble she supposed.

Turning back to the guests she eyed the warily as they entered the room fully, their own eyes darting around nervously and Vera wondered if they were expecting someone to be waiting for them. It wasn't entirely unlikely after all, people had been selling each other out left, right and centre but surely Sarah had the common sense to realise that she hadn't even realised they were coming, let alone set up their capture? Then again, Sarah _was_ playing protector to a former Countess so perhaps after all these long years of being a sensible person she had thrown the towel in a decided to be as mad as the rest of them. She'd bloody have to be to survive these days!

She didn't look much different though. Vera wasn't sure what the signs of madness were exactly but she certainly wasn't seeing them in Sarah O'Brien and other than looking a bit thinner and a great deal more tired – both traits she knew for a fact she carried on her face these days too – Sarah looked mostly unchanged. She ignored her friend for the most part, other than a vague invitation to sit down by the window.

She moved to clear the table she'd been sat at before but Cora cut across her, sinking into the seat opposite her own.

"Please, there's no need. You've been so kind."

Vera left the cards as they had fallen, the black Queen still staring up at her defensively underneath her half-smiling red counterpart. She'd seen Cora in the doorway of course and the low grey light of early evening had given her a faded look and the hallway downstairs had been dark, but now with the brighter light coming from the candles she had littered about the room she could see the woman she had heard so much about. The lines on her face weren't quite as bad in a better light and her eyes shone with gratitude. It was certainly more outwardly thankful than anything she'd bloody well had so far and, keeping her head down and fiddling with the cards as Sarah stared out of the window, watching like a hawk for Vera didn't know what, she allowed herself to revel in doing something good for someone and being thanked.

"Do you two actually know where you're going?"

Cora's eyes immediately went to Sarah and the Northern woman looked down at her hands ever so briefly before looking up at Vera with an emotion in her eyes Vera had prayed she would never have to see from the other woman. Humility.

"Well, you've got this whole 'ouse to yourself-"

"And that's the way it's going to bloody well stay!"

Sarah left the window sharply and suddenly and for a moment Vera thought she was going to hit her but instead she went to Cora and placed and hand on her shoulders and it was then that she noticed the sheen across Cora's bruised cheek that was undoubtedly dried tears. Fuck knew she'd seen her own face like that enough times in the mirror – bruise and all – to recognise what it looked like.

"Shhh," Sarah knuckles whitened with the pressure she was putting on Cora's shoulder. "Listen Vera, I'm not been funny but you do know they're not goin' to let you keep this place for just yourself for much longer? I 'eard it today on our way 'ere. They're near to getting' rid of private residences completely, so you'll 'ave to share with someone."

Vera's stomach sank. So it was going to be official soon? Fuck. Just what she needed, some homeless cretins taking up all her space and making life uncomfortable for her and for…

There was only one thing for it. If it was going to be anyone it might as well be them, at least they'd keep the secret and she'd have Sarah's eyes watching the streets at night too and maybe they could get a bit more food in the house this way? The more she thought about it the better the idea seemed – she'd just have to rely on the fact that they wanted the police here as little as she did – and anyway, wasn't she always being told how wonderful Cora was? Even if she was daft she'd keep her mouth shut out of pure love.

"Fine. You can stay-"

The rest of her sentence died in her throat when a smile spread across Cora's face that might have melted bloody snow and even Vera couldn't bring it in her to burst her bubble as the former Countess jumped out of her seat and before Vera knew what was happening and could successfully avoid it, she was being pulled into a hug. Over the thin shoulder she saw Sarah reach into her pocket and removed a cigarette with a satisfied smirk and she snarled silently at the shorter woman rather than the Countess whose face was buried in her shoulder. There was more to the look though: Sarah was pleased with herself undoubtedly and Vera had a feeling she'd expected more of a fight, but there was relief etched over every inch and she knew what it must have cost Sarah to bring her lady all the way to London with the vague hope that her old friend might put them up. With extreme awkwardness she brought her hands up and after flapping them around for a moment, placed them on Cora's back in what she assumed was a comforting touch.

"I'm not saying _forever_ , but for now I suppose it won't hurt."

Cora only hugged her tighter and Vera rolled her eyes, feeling the uncomfortable protrusion of shoulder blades through Cora's thin dress. They were all in such a state these days but the Countess had always been a skinny sod, or so she'd been told. The woman finally let her go and Vera immediately crossed to Sarah, reaching unceremonious into her pocket and pulling out the new cigarette packet. Sarah snorted without humour.

"You remember when we used to complain about the price? They're practically bloody givin' them away these days. They're the workin' man's oxygen accordin' to T- a friend of mine."

Vera took one out and fiddled with it idly as they all stood up, feeling a bit foolish and silent and she supposed there would be no point keeping the secret for as long as possible. It might as well be now.

"There's something else you should know," she rummaged amongst the belonging she had strewn across the bed for matches and finding none resorted to leaning over the candle to light it. In the moment she wasn't looking at them she could still feel their eyes boring into her and wondered what they were imagining. Straightening up she turned back to them, inhaling the smoke deeply – wherever Sarah had gotten these they were a damn sight stronger than the dregs she had been scraping together – and steeling herself. Whatever happened she was as ready she would ever be.

"Come upstairs."

Cora frowned as though she were mad, looking to Sarah for confirmation that she was right; next to her Sarah was frowning too, but not with confusion, she looked very much to Vera like she was considering a question and she thought perhaps she understood how far Sarah had been willing to go for Cora

"We _are_ upstairs aren't we?"

"Not quite."

With the cigarette balanced between her lips Vera pulled the ties of her dressing gown tighter around her and walked past the two women to reach the bookcase in the corner of the room. She pulled it swiftly towards her and revealed the space behind it: the case reached the ceiling of the room and served to cover the gap where a door to the attic had once been. It was crude perhaps but Vera though the overall effect was rather effective. Unless someone searched each of these houses in turn they would never notice that there was an attic space on the top floor and once the case was sufficiently out of the way she turned back to her guests.

Sarah, as Vera had expected, looked like she understood, but her eyes were still wider than usual at the sight of the staircase that led sideways, behind the wall of the room rather than away from it so they were more compact, as was the design of the whole street. The brevity of space on the part of the builders then made for a rather effective means of hiding a room now. Cora's eyes were wide and she looked, quite frankly, as though Vera had just personally knocked the door in with her own bare hands.

Vera held her breath for a moment and heard a creak on the floorboards above them that made both her guests jump.

"I must be mad."

She caught their eyes in turn and reached for the candle on the table before heading onto the dark staircase. There was a light at the top of the steps of course – she wasn't about to leave someone in the dark in the bloody attic – but the stairs were uneven and far from the safest, as she had learnt to her cost when she had stumbled up here early on, bruised her knees to buggery and nearly given the game away.

"Follow me."


End file.
